


Five Ways Wilson Finds Out

by crumpled_up



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-16
Updated: 2010-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:11:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumpled_up/pseuds/crumpled_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five variations of Wilson finding out about House and Cuddy. Post S6 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways Wilson Finds Out

  
**Title:** Five Ways Wilson Finds Out  
**Author:** [](http://crumpled-up.livejournal.com/profile)[**crumpled_up**](http://crumpled-up.livejournal.com/)  
**Disclaimer:** _House_ belongs to FOX, David Shore et al.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word count:** ~3250  
**Characters/Pairing:** Wilson; House/Cuddy  
**Spoilers:** 6x22: Help Me  
**Summary:** Five variations of Wilson finding out about House and Cuddy

A/N: It's been three years since my last fic. Welcome back, muse. That finale was inspirational apparently. Here we go. Enjoy!

  
**Five Ways Wilson Finds Out**

  
_one_

He pounds on House's door loud enough to wake the neighbors, shouting House's name. He's barely aware that it's around 6:30am and that House would never be awake at this time, but doesn't care. He's been tied up in the ER for the last twelve hours dealing with the patients from the crane site and hasn't slept in at least twenty hour hours. Just when he thought he might be able to see Sam for just a few minutes before she was called in to work, Foreman rushed up to him speaking a mile an minute about a dead patient and House at the end of his rope. He arrived at House's apartment soon after.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell, Wilson?"

"Cuddy?"

He blinks and then takes in her appearance. She looks exhausted and drained, dressed in dirty pink scrubs covered with a fine layer of dust.

"What are you doing here?" they ask simultaneously.

Wilson rubs the back of his neck. "Foreman told me that House needed some help. I came as soon as I could. What about you? You're…"

"Wilson!" House shouts from down the hall. "Shut up and hand me one of the spare canes in the closet."

Wilson does as he's asked and hands it to House, who's leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom in a fresh set of clothes and damp hair. "What happened to your old one?"

"Lost it at the site," House says as he grabs the cane and brushes past Wilson to head to the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"Foreman came to me… What happened to your bathroom? Why is there a hole in the wall? And wasn't there a mirror there before?"

"You ask too many questions."

"You didn't…" Wilson looks around the bathroom. "You know, take something did you?"

House stops and turns around. "You mean relapse? Did I stash my drugs in that hole behind my mirror that's no longer there?"

"Well. Yeah."

"Who do you think I am? Do you see any pills lying around? Ask Cuddy. I'm clean." With that, House turns and walks away.

Wilson frowns in concern, mentally noting to ask Cuddy later when House isn't around to deflect or distract. "What happened to your shoulder?"

"Oh this?" House says pulling the shirt away. "Cuddy went all Twilight on me and bit me. Got sick of gnawing on Lucas so she went for the next best target – me. She planned on sucking me dry but I told her she'd have to put a ring on my finger first."

"Right, because we all know just how much Cuddy really wants you."

"It's true, right, Cuddy? Don't you sparkle when you rip your clothes off?"

She rolls her eyes and points to the couch. "Sit. I need to re-bandage your shoulder."

"So what really happened?" Wilson asks once House sits down.

"Cuddy attacked me."

"Are you calling me a vampire again?" Cuddy asks dryly. "Because if I really wanted to attack you, I wouldn't have picked your shoulder."

"Ooh, aren't you a kinky one? There's one place that I'd really love for you to suck – ow! What are you, a med student? Maybe Mr. Worry Wort With Soft Hands should take over."

Wilson grins. "Sorry, House. She scares me. And my hands are too delicate." He wiggles his fingers. "So what really happened out there?"

"What do you think? A crane fell. A building collapsed. I just happened to be under said building when it decided to bury me alive."

"You're okay? I mean, nothing serious happened? No serious injuries?"

Cuddy and House glance at each other before he answers, "Nope. Just fine."

"Foreman said you lost a patient."

"Yeah." House clears his throat. "But it's no big deal. Just another patient, right? Everything's fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"House, stop moving." Cuddy snaps, holding him still. "Okay, there. You're all set."

"Thank you, mommy dearest. You wanna kiss it all better?" House bats his eyelids.

She rolls her eyes again and shakes her head. "It was tense for a moment," she answers, looking at Wilson. "But we're alive. I think Search and Rescue found most of the people by the time I left."

"Oh, that's a relief."

"How was everything at the hospital?"

"Insane, for the most part."

"Great," Cuddy says dryly, packing up the medical supplies. "I should get going."

"You're leaving already?" House asks, standing up slowly. "You don't need to go back to the hospital. There are other doctors who can take care of everyone there."

"I know, but I still need to go. I have to make sure the ER has everything it needs."

"Like I said, there are people who can take care of that. You got a phone, just call someone."

"House," Cuddy says softly, placing her hands gently on his arms. "I know. I'm going to call, but I need to check on Rachel. And you need to rest your leg and get some sleep."

Wilson watches in fascination as Cuddy holds House's gaze as if they're the only ones in the room. He's seen this before, not the stare downs they have when trying to one-up each other, but simple glances or looks that somehow communicate their thoughts and feelings. Or maybe they're simply gauging each other's reactions, but he wonders how often these moments, these silent conversations occur in between all the fighting and the pranks and the sexual harassment.

House sighs and looks away. "Okay. Fine."

Cuddy smiles and squeezes House's arms affectionately. "Wilson, make sure he stays off his leg and make sure you get some rest yourself."

"I will, don't worry."

"I'll come back and check up on you, House," Cuddy adds before she lets herself out.

Wilson raises an eyebrow when he turns to look at House. "What was _that?_"

House shrugs and heads toward his bedroom. "I'm going to bed. You can see yourself out or crash on the couch. I don't care."

"What's going on? Why was Cuddy here? I thought she was with Lucas."

"I don't know. You can ask her. And I told you, she got tired of gnawing on Lucas."

"Wait, wait, wait. You mean—"

"'Night, Wilson."

"'Night, House," Wilson sighs.

  
_two_

"I slept with Cuddy."

Wilson, pen poised above a file, stares blankly across his office at House, who is lying down on the couch. "This sounds strangely familiar, except—"

"—It was a hallucination. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks for the reminder. But it was for real this time. I double, triple and quadruple checked."

Wilson cringes and waves his hands in front of his face. "I so did not need that mental image."

House has a smug grin on his face. "Don't be jealous just because Cuddy's got bigger—"

"No, just stop right there, House. Please. I don't need you comparing Cuddy's ass to Sam's or cup sizes or whatever." He pauses and holds a hand up. "Actually…" He picks up the phone and dials. "Hi. Yeah. Really? Seriously? Okay, I'll tell him. Thanks."

"Cuddy confirm it for you?" House asks, lazily twirling his cane above his head.

Wilson blinks, then sighs. "Yeah. She also says you owe her fifty bucks because—"

"Oh no no no. She owes _me_. You called her, so she lost."

"You guys bet if I'd call to confirm?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"No, I guess not." Wilson takes a deep breath. "Mazel tov. I don't know how you did it, but you did. It's good. Really good."

"Oh spare me," House says sitting up. "I didn't come here for congratulations."

"Then what did you come for?"

"Just to let my best bud know I'm screwing the boss. Figured you'd like to know."

"Thanks, I think." Wilson puts his pen down and clears his throat. "Well, I guess this means we should celebrate. Why don't you two join Sam and I for dinner tonight? Make it a double date."

House suddenly jerks, pulls his phone out of his pocket and groans. "Damn it."

"What's the matter? Your patient?"

"No," he says glumly. His phone buzzes again. "Damn it!"

"What?"

House tosses his phone over the desk and Wilson reads the text messages:

_Did he ask you? He did, didn't he? You owe me._

Tell him yes. And you will be there or else.

Wilson laughs and tosses the phone back. "I'm assuming Cuddy won that bet."

"She planned this, didn't she? She told you on the phone."

"Nope," he says with a grin. "See you tonight."

House flops back on the couch and groans. "I hate her."

  
_three_

"So I take it House was here."

Cuddy glances up at Wilson, annoyed. She waves her hands all over the desk. "You think? Who else would do this?"

There are about a thousand little paper cranes of various shapes, sizes and colors littered all over her usually neat desk.

"You know, in some cultures I bet people would think this is some kind of marriage proposal."

She gives him a deadpan look. "You're not helping, Wilson." She tries shoving some birds aside only for more to tumble down in their wake. "How the hell am I supposed to get any work done with this – this mess!"

"It's not mess. It's origami."

Cuddy and Wilson turn around to see House standing in the doorway with a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

"They're supposed to be on a string," House continues as he approaches Cuddy's desk, "but I ran out of time to do that. Figured you'd appreciate them in their natural and free state."

She stands up and glares at him. "Clean this up or else."

"Or else what? More clinic duty?" He challenges, stepping closer. "A thousand cranes are supposed to make a wish come true. You wanna know what I wished for?"

"No. Clean this up and I'll give you eight extra hours instead of the ten that I was originally going to assign."

"Five."

"Seven. Final offer."

House pretends to consider the notion before shaking his head. "Six. And I lied."

"Fine. Don't care."

He pulls out another crane made of glossy pink origami paper from his pocket and unfolds it carefully. "There are only nine hundred and ninety nine cranes on your desk. This is lucky number one thousand. You still wanna know what I wished for?"

"No," Cuddy replies. "I want you to clean up this mess."

"Here. Take it." House holds out the crane, holding her gaze. "It's lucky."

She stares back resolutely. "Lucky, huh? That's what you wished for? Thought you'd get lucky?"

"Maybe. But I'm pretty sure it's a given."

"Hooker?"

"If that's what you want to call her."

Wilson feels neglected standing off to the side, watching his friends inch closer and closer to each other over Cuddy's desk. Maybe neglected isn't the word, privileged is more like it. It doesn't get any better than this. They've gone back to their strange mating ritual recently and it's a fascinating experience. There's something different this time, an added layer of danger it seems, and they're having fun with it.

It's interesting, he thinks. Now that his two friends are back on even ground, since the subsequent break up between Lucas and Cuddy a couple months ago, House has been going out of his way to annoy Cuddy even more. This is the third prank in the last two weeks after building a Rube Goldberg contraption made out of various books, office and medical supplies from the clinic that was triggered when she opened the door to her office three days ago, and replacing all the pictures on her desk with ones of mating deer the week before. While Cuddy has reacted appropriately, the punishment only serves to egg House on even more.

Now, they're staring each other down like a pair of five year olds on the playground daring to see who would get to go down the slide face first.

Suddenly, House grunts and looks away. "You're good. But you're not _that_ good. I will win this war."

Cuddy scoffs. "Please. I could take you any day."

"Please do."

With a satisfied smirk, Cuddy plucks the pink crane out of House's hand. "Say hi to your hooker for me."

House grins. "You can tell her yourself." With a last triumphant look, he turns and exits the office.

Wilson clears his throat and gestures to the bird in her hands. "So, uh, did I miss something?"

Cuddy looks up at Wilson, startled. "Uh, no. Why would you say something like that?" She busies herself with shuffling the cranes to one side of the desk.

"If I'm not mistaken, it sounds like you guys have plans?"

"For what?"

"I'm not sure. I don't speak your wind talker code very well, but it sounds like there's an invitation in there somewhere."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Wilson. Why are you here again?"

Wilson shrugs. "Nevermind. It's not that important. I've got everything I need." He goes to open the door to leave, but turns around one last time. "You're happy?"

Cuddy looks up and smiles. "Yeah. Surprisingly."

He returns the smile. "He is, too, I think. Mazel tov."

"Thanks, Wilson."

  
_four_

He glances down at his watch as he quickly walks past the darkened clinic, hoping he'll be able to get home in time for the dinner Sam promised would be heaven on earth. He'd already called ahead to warn her of his potential lateness, but he still wants to get there earlier than expected. What surprised him was House _wasn't_ responsible for Wilson being late, rather it was a recent patient, a teenage girl diagnosed with lung cancer, that was having a hard time with chemo. In fact, House just scoffed at Sam's lack of cooking ability and told Wilson to pack a case of Tums just in case and left it at that. Of course, House could still show up in the _middle_ of the meal, but oddly enough, he didn't create his usual tantrum and seemed preoccupied instead. With what, Wilson didn't have the time to find out, but he hopes it isn't a scheme to destroy dinner.

Just as he's about to step out of the entrance door, Wilson catches a flicker of light filtering through the clinic. He glances down at his watch again debating if he has enough time to check out what's going on, but as he gets closer, he realizes the light is from Cuddy's office. Strange for her to be here late when she has a daughter waiting at home, he thinks. Then he vaguely remembers Cuddy mentioning that she left Rachel with her parents for the week because "they never get to see their granddaughter enough" when he's pretty sure Cuddy has a web cam attached to the little girl so they can see every movement up close. So she's probably working late, to pass the time. It takes another second for Wilson to decide to invite Cuddy to dinner even if it's just to have company for a few hours. He cautiously walks to the door and peers in, hand raised to knock on the wood -- when he stops.

House is sprawled out on the couch tossing M&amp;Ms up in the air and catching them in his mouth while Cuddy is sitting in the only open space near his legs, poring over paperwork on the coffee table.

It's so natural and so domestic. It can't be real. It just can't.

He watches as House tosses a piece of candy on the file, then another and another until he takes aim at another target – down her shirt. Cuddy, ever the patient saint, signs more papers until he lands one in the not-so-hidden valley as House called it one time -- and chucks the candy back at him. He deftly catches it in his mouth with a grin, then aims more down her shirt. Somewhere in between the candy fight, House catches Wilson's gaze through the glass with a start, gives him quick nod, before turning back to Cuddy and snatching the files off the table, waving them over his head.

So this is what has House preoccupied lately. Wilson smiles as he turns around to head back home. At least Cuddy won't be alone and dinner won't be ruined.

  
_five_

It's been one of those days where nothing seems to go right and the hours seem to disappear like the coffee in the doctor's lounge. One of Wilson's patients finally lost the battle against cancer and he's been dealing with the grieving family for the past hour. House's patient took a turn for the worse and he's been taking his anger out on anyone who comes within thirty feet. His team is smart, hiding behind lab tests and observing the patient while House locks himself in his office. Wilson managed to catch a glimpse of Cuddy going into House's office only to storm out three minutes later. Wilson managed to last at least five before Taub, the unlucky one who drew the short stick, came in with a new symptom. After that, Wilson's day snowballed into a fight with Sam and since then, he's been trying to find excuses not to go home.

He stands up and stretches, looking across the balcony to see if House is in his office and willing to go grab a few drinks – or more. The lights are off, but that doesn't mean he's out, so Wilson goes outside to get a closer look but he's gone. Wilson takes a few deep calming breaths and looks over the railing, down to the entrance of the hospital. There's a familiar silhouette in the distance walking towards a motorcycle and Wilson sighs at just having missed his friend. He takes out his phone to dial when another shadow rushes out of the doors in House's direction. Wilson's thumb hovers over the keypad as he watches House stop and turn to face the second person. Squinting in the low light of the street lamps, he barely recognizes Cuddy in her overcoat and her briefcase in one hand. They're talking and he suddenly wishes he had supersonic hearing because he sees Cuddy lay a hand on House's chest. Instead of shrugging it off, House looks down and takes her hand in his as they both head toward the parking garage.

Wilson cocks his head to the side and watches until they disappear in the darkness. Interesting, he thinks. Never would've guessed. He assumed that the renewed flirty banter was because House found out about the break up with Lucas and could go back to his juvenile ways, or Cuddy relaxed enough to pick up where they left off. His impulse is to call or text House to see what is happening or just to tease, but he holds back. After today, he doesn't want to cause more trouble. Then he wonders – how long has this been going on? He wants to know everything, every detail – the day it happened, what was said, was it morning or night, was it romantic, who said 'I love you' first or was it even brought up, where did it happen – and then realizes House will never divulge that information. He would call Wilson a girl and deflect before anything would be revealed. Wilson sighs and scrolls through his phone to find a florist's number that would hopefully be open late. Maybe he should spend more time thinking about how he's going to make it up to Sam instead of dwelling on the love lives of his friends.  


__


End file.
